


No Dick Mullen

by DumplingWhisperer



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Catastrophizing Thought Spirals, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, It's not what the title and tags make it seem like okay, No Transphobia, Swearing, Trans Harry Du Bois, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23842891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DumplingWhisperer/pseuds/DumplingWhisperer
Summary: "Sergeant Torson here is wondering if you are still in possession of your genitalia, over," Jules dutifully relays to you.Fuck that guy, you'll tell him exactly where you put your dick last- Wait. Your heart drops. Your free hand drops to your crotch - oh fuck._________Harry lost his packer.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 58





	No Dick Mullen

You clench the radio receiver in your fist as cackling carries over the airwaves. You got through the humiliation of reporting your badge and gun missing, just don't take the bait now.

"Sergeant Torson here is wondering if you are still in possession of your genitalia, over," Jules dutifully relays to you.

Fuck that guy, you'll tell him exactly where you put your dick last- Wait. Your heart drops. Your free hand drops to your crotch - oh  _ fuck.  _

Out of the corner of your eye you see the lieutenant look down at your crotch hand, then nonchalantly turn around to intently study the sidewalk.

Okay, no need to panic. These kinds of things happen all the time. Probably? You take stock lest you forgot to put on pants, too. This morning you: dragged your damp shirt from the shower railing, found your excellent fashion choice of a blazer and yes, pulled on your pants whose mystery stains look vaguely incriminating, but not too damning. Miraculously you still had your briefs on, but you're not sure they count as a win. You located one sensibly placed shoe off the coat rack and one less sensibly placed shoe. And you got the damn tie off the fan without pulling all of the muscles in your right shoulder.

_ But where the fuck is your packer?  _

God, your crotch feels so empty. It  _ is  _ empty, it's gone, oh god  _ your dick is gone _ .

Kim continues to ignore you while you pat yourself down with mounting panic.

Your mind is racing. Where did you leave it? Maybe it's still in your room, hiding under the half-demolished sofa bed? What if, wasted out of your mind, you pulled your pants down wrong and it vanished down the toilet?

Shit, what if it's not in the Whirling at all? You mentally retrace the steps of your bender from hell. The ones you know of at least, not that you remember any of them. It wasn't in the dumpster out back, thankfully - but what if those ginger gremlins found it and are creatively marrying it with their severed pig head  _ right now _ . What about the Union, what if they found it - forget your police badge or your gun, this right here would be your life's most mortifying blackmail material. The Wild Pines rep probably doesn't have it or she'd have busted your balls about it already. Or maybe not quite that.

But wait - maybe you never even got that far.  _ What if you dropped it in the fucking sea _ ? What if a seagull made off with it, thinking it the catch of its miserable life, and is now feeding it to its young, watching proudly as their merciless beaks shred into your packer's beautiful, luxurious medical-grade silicone skin? Your throat constricts at the thought of your packer torn to pieces, disintegrating into the Insulindian Sea...

Deep breaths, Harry, deep breaths. Surely you've dealt with worse.

But this  _ is  _ worse than when it fell down your pant leg in the middle of the precinct and you only barely managed to hobble to the bathroom before it shimmied out onto the floor entirely. It would've been easier to fake an inappropriate boner, but that was  _ precisely _ what you didn’t have. This is even worse than when you'd forgotten you'd updated your model and pissed yourself standing in front of the urinals. This is  _ much  _ worse than when you got high off your ass and glued it to your forehead.

This is the worst. There is no coming back from this one. You  _ loved  _ that packer, and now it's left you. Why does this keep happening?

"... officer, hello?" Jules' voice rips you out if your catastrophizing doom spiral. "I'm afraid he's gone silent..."

Torson, that pathetic bastard, shouts over the gleeful commotion on the other side. "What, did he really lose his dick?! How the fuck does one-"

You slam the receiver back on the radio. Kim startles at the violence to his car, but mercifully doesn’t say anything.

Slowly you turn to him and make yourself look him in the eye. Time to swallow your pride. "Kim.  _ Kim _ . Please help me find my dick."

  
**Thought gained:** Packer? I barely know 'er!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for considering my dearest headcanon, Harry the Disaster Transsexual.
> 
> If you want to know more about packers, I found this short explanation quite good. Note though that non-binary, genderqueer and/or transmasc folks sometimes pack, too. Or anyone can, even just for fun!  
> https://transguysupply.com/blogs/news/what-is-a-packer


End file.
